


Internal Affairs

by Jackdaw816



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Banter, Flirting, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Time Agent Ianto Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw816/pseuds/Jackdaw816
Summary: The agent who ran, the agent who's running, and the agent who's hunting
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness/John Hart
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	Internal Affairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyborgtamaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyborgtamaki/gifts).



> Prompt: Alternate Janto meeting, #3
> 
> After a month of stalling and a panicked week where I tried to do a full season rewrite for a different prompt (which I might still do later), I finally settled on this! Alternate Janto meeting where Ianto Jones is a proper 51st-century Time Agent, and Jack is basically the same as canon but without having hired his favorite Welshman. I really hope you like it, Lauren!

Jack was doing paperwork - read: pretending to do paperwork to avoid having to help Owen take care of the Weevils - when his bracer beeped for the second time in two months. He frowned. He really hoped this wouldn’t have to happen. 

“Gwen, Toshiko,” Jack called as he dashed out of his office, grabbing his own coat from the hook. The women looked up, and he grinned at them. “I’m going out. It’s urgent.”

“Is this about our… guest?” Tosh asked. She was always intuitive, or maybe she could hear his vortex manipulator still beeping. Jack nodded.

“Let him know. I’ll try to cover for him, but he may need to be ready to run,” he warned. Gwen nodded and darted off to the lower levels while Jack strode through the cog door, intent on making it somewhere high and safe.

Five minutes later, he was on a private rooftop. He took a deep breath, then answered the call. Nothing happened. He shook his wrist and pressed the button again. He hadn’t broken the hologram projector, had he? He had taken a few hard hits lately, but he hadn’t noticed any damage. Jack let out a soft growl, jabbing at the button impatiently.

Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Jack whirled around, gun in hand, vortex manipulator still hanging open. A young man in a delectable suit of a very out-of-date cut stood there, eyebrow arched dramatically. He didn’t appear armed, but Jack knew better. Anyone with a vortex manipulator on their wrist was a threat.

“Sorry to drop in like this, but you didn’t answer my call,” the agent said politely, but with a note of disapproval. Jack carefully holstered his gun, frowning. 

“Had to find somewhere private,” he said, closing his bracer, then crossing his arms. “What does the Agency want from me?” 

“First, they would like to issue an apology for any pain and suffering caused by your loss of memory, Agent Thane. Although they hold firm on their position that they were not the cause of it,” the agent said, face neutrally pleasant. Jack couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. (But he was cute, damn him.) 

“It’s Harkness now. Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack said firmly. The agent nodded. The Agency was good at respecting aliases if nothing else. If only they knew this wasn’t an alias. “And you?”

“Jones. Ianto Jones,” the agent said with just a hint of bravado. Jack grinned.

“You Welsh then? Should have known from those beautiful vowels.” Jones rolled his eyes.

“With all due respect, this meeting is not about me. I am here for three things.” Jack sighed lightly but motioned for Jones to continue. “First, the apology. Second, I am also here to extend an offer. The Agency would love to have you back, Captain Harkness.” Jack tried not to let his displeasure at the thought show. The Agency had made him, but it had also broken him. He’d go back over his dead body.

“Not interested,” Jack said lightly, holding back the barbs of criticism. “Now, the third thing?” He eyed Jones up; the suit really highlighted his ass… ets. “I’d love to finish with business and continue our chat somewhere less formal.” To his credit, Jones didn’t visibly react to Jack’s come-on, although his blue eyes darkened just a shade.

“We have reason to believe you are harboring a rogue agent,” Jones said bluntly. He raised his arm and projected a holographic mugshot of a very familiar face. “His most recent alias is John Hart, although you would have known him as Agent-”

“I know _who_ he is,” Jack said, letting the bitterness seep into his tone. “What I don’t understand is why you think I know _where_ he is.”

“The Agency is well aware of your history with Hart, Captain Harkness,” Jones said smoothly. “We believe that when he ran, he ran to you.” Jack let out a short bark of a laugh.

“You’re joking. He hates me ever since I broke up with him; why would he be here?” Jones shrugged.

“It was a hypothesis. But if he’s not here, then I guess the Agency will have to consider other options.” Jones’ gaze met Jack’s own; steely blue to sea blue. “If he does show his face, give us a call, yeah? The Agency has a hefty bounty out for him, so it would be to your benefit.”

“Noted,” Jack said, face impassive for a few seconds before he broke into a smirk. “Now, can I buy you a drink? This century might not be what you’re used to, but they sure make a mean cocktail.” Jack saw the faintest hint of a smile on Jones’ face before he shook his head.

“I try not to mix business with pleasure, Captain,” Jones said, taking a few steps closer. Jack pouted at him. “But perhaps once I’m done chasing your ex-husband across the galaxy, I can make an exception.” Jack chuckled.

“He’s really more of a wife.” Jack took his own step closer to the handsome suited agent. “So, it’s a date?” he asked, reaching out to grab Jones’ tie. Jones easily sidestepped his advance, grabbing Jack’s arm and twisting it up behind him. Jack let out a little gasp of not-quite pain as Jones dug his chin into his shoulder.

“Careful, Harkness,” Jones whispered. “I could end you in five different ways right now.” Something hard pressed against him, and Jack resisted the urge to make the classic joke.

“Are you just talk then, or are you going to follow through?” Jack asked, pressing back against Jones. He could hear the snarl ripple from Jones’ throat before he dropped Jack’s arm and pushed him away.

“We’ll see,” he said, smirking. He gave Jack a cocky little two-finger salute before disappearing down the stairwell. Jack grinned as the door slammed shut. That had gone rather well actually.

Jack waited for a few minutes before making his own way down from the roof. Then he stalled on his way back, taking side roads and darting through CCTV blindspots. He even stopped to get some coffee before he eventually made his way to the Hub. The siren blared, the cog door rolled back, and a very familiar face greeted him.

“Ooh, is that for me?” John drawled. He took the cup out of Jack’s hand before he could protest. “Thanks, darling.” Jack rolled his eyes as he followed John into the Hub. He was a little weasel, but luckily for him, Jack hated the Agency more than he hated John. Providing him temporary temporal asylum was the least he could do.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Jack prompted, crossing his arms and looking down at John. John shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee and wrinkling his nose. 

“This is shit,” he said bluntly, putting the cup aside. He hopped up on a desk, crossing his legs lazily. “And I don’t need to ask; I already know. You met the agent, gave them the spiel about you not wanting them on your territory, and sent them packing.”

“You don’t know that,” Jack said firmly. “I could have led them back here and taken the bounty. Apparently, it’s quite a nice one.” John let out a whistle.

“Guess they really want me back.” He leaned in and grinned. “But you didn’t turn me in. You’re too nice now. You can’t blame me for wanting to get away from them.”

“You just didn’t want to have to do another stint in murder rehab,” Jack retorted. He tried to walk past, but John caught his wrist, gentle pressure a warning.

“C’mon, lover, give me a kiss,” John teased, pursing his lips dramatically. Jack rolled his eyes, then grinned. He approached John, leaned in, and stole his coffee back. John pouted at him as he pulled away. “Spoilsport.”

“Hey, I’m giving you asylum from the most powerful force in the fifty-first century,” Jack said. “I think that deserves a little gratitude.”

“Oh, I can be grateful,” John purred. Jack shot him a look. “Alright, alright. Fine. Thank you.”

“Now, was that so hard?” Jack asked before taking his first sip of his coffee. Damn it, John was right. It was shit. But it wasn’t like any of them could make it any better. The coffee machine in the Hub kitchen had been left ignored for so long it was under a solid inch of dust; no one wanted to touch it.

“Painfully,” John responded, monotone but with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Not as painful as it’s about to be, I’m afraid,” a new, but deadly familiar voice rang out. Jack whirled around, drawing a gun on Ianto Jones for the second time that day. The suited Time Agent was standing on a catwalk, twin pistols in hand and one leveled at each of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted John drawing his own gun. But not on Jones.

“Jack,” John said, his tone prickling with betrayed amusement. “Just like old times. So how big was that bounty then?”

“It wasn’t me!” Jack swore, but before he could elaborate, Jones clucked his tongue.

“You lied to me, Captain Harkness,” he chided. “That’s a shame. And treason. Now, I’ll have to bring you both in.” Luckily, John realized his error and adjusted his aim accordingly. Jack didn’t blame him; he would have thought the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Jack said calmly. “Now, tell me. How’d you find us?” Jones laughed.

“Your partner turned his tracking beacon off but didn’t remove it entirely. All I had to do was create a little bug, then infect your vortex manipulator. When you came back to him-” Jones snapped his fingers. “He lit up brighter than a whore’s front door.”

“So it _is_ your fault,” John said accusingly, glancing over at Jack.

“You’re the one who didn’t properly jailbreak your vortex manipulator!” Jack snapped back, eyes never leaving Jones.

“You’re the one who broke his vortex manipulator!” 

“How does that apply here!?”

“Boys,” Jones said calmly. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“What do you think, John?” Jack said. “Should we take the easy way?”

“Oh, but the hard way’s so much more fun,” John responded. There was a pause, a stalemate, guns still raised. Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted his team to show up or stay away. It wasn’t safe.

John started to tap his foot. Once. Jones furrowed his brow. Twice. Jack grinned and tightened his grip. 

On the third tap, four shots rang out. Jack heard twin shouts of pain and watched as John clutched at his arm and Jones pressed a hand to his thigh. Jack was unhurt and, ignoring John for the moment, took a step closer. He aimed for Jones’ head.

“Leave and forget you ever saw us,” Jack growled. “Or the next one goes between your eyes.” Those eyes were staring at him with unfathomable emotions dancing in their blue depths.

“I’ll be back,” Jones promised through gritted teeth. “We’ve found you now. You can’t escape us.” Jack grinned. 

“See, but we can. You’ve played your hand. John will be long gone by the time you return.”

“And you?” Jones spat. “You going to come quietly?” Jack smirked.

“Not usually.” His smirk grew a little more sinister. “And I don’t need to run. Because if any agent sets foot in my city, I will kill them.” He hesitated a moment before continuing. “You too. I don’t want to see you again.” 

“Really?” Jones said, voice saccharine. “But you offered me a drink.” 

“And then you broke into my base, tried to arrest me, and shot my friend,” Jack said calmly, ignoring how his heart fluttered. Jones had remembered. “I’m afraid that’s not really flattering behavior.” 

“I’ll win you over,” Jones said after a few moments. “And if not, well. I imagine the Agency will place a fair price on your head.”

“And I invite them to try,” Jack said coolly. _And you._ Against perhaps his better judgment, he wanted Ianto Jones to try and prove himself worthy of his attention. Jones grinned.

“See you around, Jack,” Jones said, his name sounding unfairly delectable in that accent. Quickly, he lifted his arm and disappeared into the glow of the Rift. Jack watched him go, and let out a sigh.

“The bitch fucking shot me!” Jack sighed again and turned back to John. “Unbelievable, you know how expensive it is to get this coat fixed?” 

“You shot him back,” Jack reassured, crossing over to John. “And I’m sure you’ll manage.” It looked like Jones had only grazed him; he might not even need stitches. He’d have Owen take a look when he got back though.

Almost like magic, the cog door blared, and Gwen, Tosh, and Owen came through.

“Jack!” Gwen called. “Are you back? We’ve brought back some lunch for you and-” She cut off as she caught sight of John, newly-coatless and bleeding. “Bloody hell, what happened?”

“Long story,” Jack said grimly. “Short version, an associate dropped by and it got a little dramatic. Owen, can you-” Owen nodded, face focused as he crossed to take a look at John’s wound. “Tosh, I need you to set up a trace. I want to know if a Time Agent even thinks about setting foot in Cardiff.”

“I can take the signals from yours and John’s vortex manipulators and set up a scan,” Tosh said, eyes bright with a challenge. She dashed off, and Jack turned to Gwen. She was staring at him piercingly.

“An associate?” she asked. “Another Time Agent then?” Jack nodded.

“Like John said, he was after him. And the bounty on his head. And now on my head.” Gwen glared even harder. “I may have pissed him off.”

“And asked him for a drink,” John said nonchalantly.

“Jack, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. He was really cute though,” Jack defended. John nodded in agreement.

“Real piece of eye candy- oi, careful,” John hissed at Owen. Owen grinned innocently.

“Alright, fine,” Gwen said. “So, Jack’s got a thing for Time Agents who want to kill him-”

“I didn’t want to kill him-”

“Shut it,” Gwen said without looking. “Now, Jack. What’s the plan?” Jack shrugged.

“We wait for Agent Jones to make his move.” Jack grinned. “And when he does, we’ll be ready.” Jones was up for a chase, and Jack was all game.


End file.
